


Froides Mains, Chaudes Amour

by HSavinien



Category: Wilby Wonderful (2004)
Genre: Autumn, Canon Queer Relationship, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2013-11-07
Packaged: 2017-12-31 18:16:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1034843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HSavinien/pseuds/HSavinien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the ds_snippets weekly challenge prompt: "leaves".  Froides main, chaudes amor translates to "cold hands, warm heart".  Dan and Duck have a busy autumn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Froides Mains, Chaudes Amour

The leaves are turning all over the island and he's still a little bewildered by how much everyone...obsesses about autumn.  It's not that he doesn't appreciate the colors.  They're lovely; blazing oranges and reds, shimmering yellows.  Every weekend there's a "Fall Festival" or an "Autumn Craft Fair" or a "Harvest pageant" at one of the churches or the school.  You'd think from the shop windows downtown that autumn was a holiday in its own right, bigger than anything else but Christmas.  Maybe it is, or it should be.  He's been going out with Duck every other day at least, putting up storm windows, tracking down and plugging drafts, prepping gardens for the frost.  Working with his hands, fingers scraped and dirt ground under his nails, nose running from the chill in the air and the drying leaves, but feeling real and grounded because of it.

Today, they're mending a hole in the Andersons' roof.  Yesterday, Buddy French had the joy of evicting the family of raccoons that had moved in and he and Duck had stopped by to watch and wince (Dan) and offer suggestions (Duck).  He leans back against the truck, shrugging deeper into his windbreaker, and cups the mug of cinnamony apple cider Emily brought him.  It feels nearly scalding in his hands compared to the wind off the bay and he wonders a little vaguely where his gloves went.

Duck moseys over and hitches up on the brickwork next to the truck across from Dan, boots knocking gently against his as Duck buries his nose in his own mug.  Dan's work gloves are hanging out of Duck's jacket pocket.  His eyes flick up at Dan, but it's just a "hello", so Dan just nods back and enjoys the sting of wind and sun on his cheeks.


End file.
